Книга - Consume

Consume
Melissa Darnell


Tristan Coleman has survived the change from Clann magic user to vampire, much to Savannah Colbert's joy—and despair. By changing the Clann's golden boy and newly elected leader, even to save him from death, she has unleashed a fury of hatred and fear that they cannot escape.As the Clann and the vampire council go to war, a new threat stirs: an ancient being more powerful than anything the Clann or the vampires have faced in centuries. To fight for peace, Tristan and Sav must win the trust of someone who has caused them nothing but pain and heartbreak.Soon they will learn that some bonds are stronger than love—and some battles cannot be won without sacrifice.







These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume.

—William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Tristan Coleman has survived the change from Clann magic user to vampire, much to Savannah Colbert’s joy—and despair. By changing the Clann’s golden boy and newly elected leader, even to save him from death, she has unleashed a fury of hatred and fear that they cannot escape.

As the Clann and the vampire council go to war, Tristan and Sav face a new threat—a fracturing of the all-consuming bond they share. To fight for peace, they must forge a new trust and risk everything to take down their deadliest enemy, even as they must run for their lives. Soon they will learn that some bonds are stronger than love—and some battles cannot be won without sacrifice.


It should have been perfect—Tristan and me and a remote log cabin with a crackling fireplace nestled on a west Arkansas mountain in December. No Clann or vampire council members nearby to bother us. No more rules or secrets to keep us apart.

No more risk of accidentally killing Tristan with a kiss.

Instead, it was all wrong.

* * *

PRAISE FOR THE CLANN SERIES

Covet

“Covet is a fresh take on the paranormal genre. Darnell made it interesting, giving strong voices to defined characters. Overall, I enjoyed Covet, and I think you will also.”

—Michelle at Dark Fairie Tales

“Darnell has an excellent writing style that seamlessly brings the story together, allowing for the plot to develop at a natural pace, adding to the appeal of the story.”

—Devin E., reviewer at Kees2Create (www.kees2create.com.au (http://www.kees2create.com.au))

“The sheer depth of the raw emotion in Covet was absolutely staggering as I felt like I was being torn apart right along with the characters. This was an absolutely brilliant follow-up to Crave, and I highly recommend it.”

—A Book Obsession

Crave

“An enticing mix of forbidden love, magic, betrayal, and heartache, this romance will leave you craving more.”

—Mundie Moms

“Melissa Darnell has written a beautiful love story centered around the supernatural world. There is nothing sweeter than forbidden love…”

—Realm of Fiction

“A spellbinding, compelling, and completely enjoyable debut, Crave had me flipping pages until there were none left to flip.”

—Electrifying Reviews


Consume

Melissa Darnell




www.miraink.co.uk (http://www.miraink.co.uk)


This one’s dedicated to you, the readers of this series, for all your awesome continued support and love for the world and characters of The Clann series!


Contents

Chapter 1 (#u16139791-4ae3-5bf0-9421-1b59396990a3)

Chapter 2 (#uc2a42790-94d6-52a9-8ed2-5ab200760331)

Chapter 3 (#u1a333778-f073-53e7-a399-15871dccd341)

Chapter 4 (#ue04bfef1-92ec-5531-964d-f280ef87e0a0)

Chapter 5 (#ue4181801-d14c-5536-a791-980d770319ce)

Chapter 6 (#u73b31038-b8bc-5c34-b416-83f0d9c2efdf)

Chapter 7 (#u2fa16ee7-9a7b-5a8f-a49d-b3cabe5f15fc)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)

The Consume Playlist (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER 1

SAVANNAH

I stared at the surrounding forest on Rich Mountain, one hand braced against the trunk of a leafless hardwood tree at my side, my too-quick breaths making puffs of fog in the afternoon air as the feeble sun edged beneath the winter-stripped branches of the tree line. The air was smoky, acrid with the false promise of comfort from the chimney of a cabin several yards behind me, which I was struggling to ignore during my few blessed minutes of solitude outside.

It should have been perfect.... Tristan and me and a remote log cabin with a crackling fireplace nestled on a west Arkansas mountain in December. No Clann or vampire council nearby to bother us. No more rules or secrets to keep us apart. No more risk of accidentally draining and killing Tristan with a kiss.

Instead, it was all wrong, and I was staggering under the weight of what we now faced.

We weren’t alone here. My dad had come along, not for Tristan’s safety or even my own, but for anyone else who might come too close and trigger the bloodlust within Tristan. If not for Dad’s holding him back last night, Tristan might have slaughtered his own family in the Circle, the Clann’s clearing and primary meeting place in our hometown woods where so much Clann and vamp blood had been shed only hours ago.

Just the memory of how Tristan had looked there—his once soft emerald eyes turned white-silver with need, his normally full lips stretched thin and baring newly formed fangs as he snarled with rage—forced a shudder to ripple through my body. Until that moment, I’d never seen a vampire lose control to the bloodlust. Now that I had, I would never forget it.

Coming to this isolated cabin hadn’t been optional, and staying here promised to be anything but fun or peaceful. We’d had to load up Dad’s car last night and come here immediately after the battle in the Circle just to get Tristan away from all humans before the bloodlust drove him crazy. Even stopping for gas had been a nightmare. Thank heavens Jacksonville, our East Texas hometown, was only a day’s drive, so we hadn’t been forced to stop often. Now that Tristan was a full vampire, his strength was far beyond my own thanks to his years of playing football and strength training before being turned. The one time we had stopped, I’d had to fill the gas tank so that Dad could hold Tristan inside the car and away from the humans in the gas station.

And afterward, the new mind connection had made it all so much worse, allowing Tristan to pick up my every thought while I silently struggled not to freak out.

Before I had turned Tristan, the ESP between us had been a one-way street and I hadn’t had to worry about his hearing my every thought. Because vampires and Clann were natural-born enemies, mental blocks had evolved in both the vamp and Clann species so that neither side could read the others’ minds. But because I was a dhampir—born from a human mother and a vampire father—I could read both sides’ minds yet was shielded from their reading mine.

Unfortunately now that Tristan was half Clann and half vampire like me, we suddenly had zero trouble reading each other’s every thought. This would have been great if there had been some sort of off switch to the ability. But for now, at least, there didn’t seem to be one, turning the new ability into more of a curse. The only way we could block each other’s thoughts was to be in separate rooms. Walls with closed doors and windows between us thankfully seemed to cut off our brain waves from each other.

It used to make me feel so alone, this ability to read but not be read by all the open minds around me. But now that Tristan had become the one person on this planet who could read my every thought as soon as it formed, I realized how spoiled I’d become by having the freedom to think anything I wanted. I had no idea how to discipline the panicked, guilty chaos inside my head while around him. And because of my lack of mental self-control, I was hurting him over and over.

Which was why, after Tristan had fallen asleep inside the cabin still hurt and confused by my reaction to him at the gas station, I’d snuck out here to the woods to catch a breath. And to finally give in to the thousand and one worries I had fought so hard not to think when he was awake.

What had I done to him? To us?

I wrapped an arm around a nearby tree and leaned against it, allowing it to hold me up. I was so tired, but my mind refused to shut off and let me rest.

The cabin door creaked out in warning, and another chunk of tree bark crumbled under my fingers as I twisted to look back over my shoulder.

Dad walked over to join me, and my shoulders sagged under a wave of relief. I’d almost forgotten that I wasn’t alone in this. Thank God I had Dad to turn to for advice on how to train a fledgling, because I was completely clueless here.

“Come to get some fresh mountain air?” he said.

“No. Just...needing some space to worry about Tristan. He can hear my every thought now, whether I want him to or not. But he doesn’t remember anything except the memories he got from my blood. He’s so lost and confused, and he doesn’t understand why I’m freaking out.” My voice was rising. I took a breath and struggled to bring it down to a murmur so Tristan wouldn’t hear us. “How are we going to tell him about everything?”

Dad had said the biggest danger for all fledglings was in the first few months after they’d turned, when the human mind struggled to adjust to the vampire DNA. During this phase, he said the brain tended to react as if after a concussion, shutting off the memory center and operating solely on the baser levels of senses and instincts. The memory would return in time, but it could take several months.

In the meantime, Tristan might be highly emotional and possibly even irrational sometimes, and it would be hard for him to concentrate for long periods of time. In addition, he would have the impulse to feed on humans with no understanding of why he felt such cravings, and he’d have the speed, strength and reflexes of a full vampire.

“We cannot attempt to hasten the recovery of his memories in any way,” Dad said. “We must be patient and allow his memories to return to him on their own. Telling him what he has forgotten will only stress and confuse him still further. He will never truly believe what he does not remember himself, and right now he is in much too volatile a state to handle all the ramifications of our current situation. You will have to continue to protect him from your thoughts as much as you are able to.”

Easier said than done.

“What if he never remembers it all? What if I’m not strong enough, or smart enough, or we don’t train him right or fast enough...?”

Dad rested a hand on my shoulder. “Now you know all that I have gone through with you. Becoming responsible for another’s continued existence is the heaviest responsibility there is. But it does grow easier with time.”

Time. How much did we even have? “Will the council try to find us out here?”

He shook his head. “They trust me to be truthful in my reports to them by phone. The Clann, however...”

I frowned in confusion. “Tristan’s mom is leading them now. Why would they be a problem?”

“We both know how she feels about our kind.”

And Nancy Coleman blamed me for turning her only son into the very thing she feared the most in life.

“Okay, so she might hate my guts,” I said. “But if she’d wanted to take me out, she could have done it last night in the Circle.”

“With such a mixed audience of both Clann and vampire councilmen present?”

Hmm. I saw his point. A chill spread over my skin. “Still, she’s Tristan’s mom. She knows he needs me to help train him now.”

“Unless she decides you and Tristan are too great a threat to the Clann after all. Especially now that you have proven your blood can turn descendants where no other vampire’s has been able to before.”

My stomach twisted. I took a slow and careful breath. “She wouldn’t do that. Not to her own son. She adores Tristan, no matter what I’ve turned him into.”

“For all our sakes, let us hope you are right. Let us also hope that she gains control over the Clann quickly before any descendants can decide to take matters into their own hands and seek retribution against you for turning their leader.”

“Tristan was only their leader for about two minutes.”

“Even still, he was their leader. And now he is cast out and all but dead to them. You turned him into that which they fear above all else in this world. It is not likely that they will forget that fact soon.”

I stared at the seemingly endless miles of surrounding woods now turning to shades of gray in the fast growing dusk. “Even if the Clann comes after us, they can’t find us out here. We didn’t leave a trail, and no one knows about this place. Right?”

“They do not have to know about it. If the Clann is determined to find us, the odds are in their favor that they will. Do not forget, they have both spells and the Keepers to aid them.”

Oh, lord. I had forgotten about the Clann’s alliance with the Keepers, a group of families also originally from Ireland who, in the old country, had agreed to have a shapeshifter spell placed upon them that spanned generations. Once they shifted into the form of giant black panthers, the Keepers could read both Clann and vampire minds, including mine and probably still Tristan’s, too. My best friend’s boyfriend, Ron Abernathy, was one of a long line of Keepers.

Could the Clann force Ron and his family to help them hunt us?

I swallowed against a growing knot in my throat. We were buried deep in the woods two states away from the Clann’s Jacksonville headquarters. How would the Keepers scent us down—by following the smell of our car exhaust?

“I took every precaution possible during our trip,” Dad said. “And we will stay away from the surrounding towns to lessen the humans’ knowledge of our presence here. Nevertheless, we must remain cautious. If you sense any sort of magic being used, you must let me know at once. They may try to use a spell to track us down if they become truly determined.”

Oh, great. I hadn’t thought of that, either.

Like all Clann descendants, I had the ability to feel when magic was being used nearby. It would hit me as a sensation of pins and needles stabbing the back of my neck and arms. But I was still new to using my Clann abilities and, as an outcast of the Clann since before my birth, I was also completely self-taught. There was so much I didn’t know about magic. How far away could it be used on someone? Would I feel that spell if the user was physically far away from me?

Then I remembered who I was talking to and froze.

Both the Clann and the vampire council had demanded my mother and grandmother never teach me how to use magic. But I’d broken that rule and secretly learned how to anyway. Until last night, I’d worked especially hard to keep my growing Clann abilities a secret from my dad, because the vampire council could read his every thought.

This was the first time Dad had openly acknowledged he knew I could use magic.

He must have seen me throwing defensive spells last night in the Circle. The council members probably had seen it, too. During the heat of the battle while blocking and returning spells, hiding my new abilities had been the absolute last thing on my mind.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved that my final secret was out, or even more worried. “Has the council said anything to you about my new...um, skills?”

He shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “I suspect they are waiting to see how Tristan’s training turns out first. It would not be strategically wise of them to risk upsetting the only two vampires in the world who also have magical abilities, especially when one of them is currently so unstable and the treaty with the Clann is in question. But eventually I do expect them to call both of you in for...a discussion.”

Great. The last time the council had summoned me to their headquarters in Paris, they’d kidnapped Tristan and used him to test my ability to resist the bloodlust for Clann blood, the most powerful temptation to any vamp alive. I’d passed the test, but barely.

I had zero desire to see how a ticked-off, newly turned Tristan would react to facing the council in their headquarters.

I pressed a shaky hand to my pounding temple. One crisis at a time. First we had to stabilize Tristan, make it safe for him to be around others again. Then we’d deal with the council.

“So about Tristan’s training,” I said. “You’ve got a plan, right?”

“Not exactly.”

I turned to stare at him. “You’re joking, right? You’re over three hundred years old. You’ve probably trained tons of fledglings by now.”

“You are my only fledgling still alive.”

“What happened to the ones who came before me?”

“There was only one. In the first hundred years of my immortal life, Gowin was busy with his many other fledglings and I became lonely and disillusioned by my existence. I foolishly attempted to turn a dying friend so that I might have a companion, someone to speak with about our unique trials and tribulations.”

My heartbeat raced. “What happened?”

“I failed to help him overcome the initial hurdle of the bloodlust.”

“So the council...?”

“My fledgling was out of control despite my best efforts, and ultimately I could not argue with the council’s decision to put him down.”

Put him down?

Oh. He meant they’d killed his first fledgling.

And since I was a dhampir instead of a full vamp, my version of training probably didn’t count toward Dad’s true track record as a vamp sire. Which meant Dad didn’t know what he was doing, either.

“Why do y’all have to call it that?” I whispered, trying not to picture Tristan facing the council’s wrath if Dad and I failed to teach him self-control. “They’re not animals to be ‘put down.’ They’re people.”

“When the council decides to end a fledgling’s existence, believe me, it is not because that fledgling is exhibiting any higher form of civilized traits. They are animals, driven by nothing other than the base need to feed. ‘Putting them down’ is the only apt way to describe it. It is an act of compassion made with the understanding that the person that fledgling once was can never be brought back in any shape or form, thus hopefully saving both the fledgling’s soul along with all the souls of the lives they would otherwise take from this world.”

I stared at my dad, sensing both the quick buzzing quality of his emotions in the air between us and hearing his thoughts. I’d never seen him so wound up like this, both afraid and desperate and ashamed all at the same time. Ashamed of his previous failure, fearful that we would fail again and this time it would be my fledgling who would face the council’s ultimate punishment.

But my dad was a three-hundred-year-old vamp and a former member of the council. He was supposed to have all the answers.

“What about asking the council for advice?” I said.

“Even council members occasionally fail with their fledglings. You become a council member for your age and political skills, not because you know more than everyone else in the community. Besides, our situation with the council is already exceedingly tenuous, and I have no desire to further sway them toward making any hasty decisions. As it is, they are alarmed beyond measure at the thought of not one but two vamps with magical abilities who might one day rise up against them. If they believe we are incapable of training Tristan to control himself...”

He didn’t have to finish that thought. My imagination could fill in the gap all too easily.

“What about asking for help from other vamps not on the council? Somebody out there’s got to have this training stuff down by now.”

He continued to stare off into the distance, letting silence answer for him.

“So we just have to figure this out on our own?” I couldn’t breathe as the enormity of what we were facing crashed over me.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Savannah, but there is no Vampire Training for Dummies guide to assist us, no vampire fledgling school to send him to. Every fledgling is a unique case, this one more so than ever. I can only try the methods my sire utilized with me during my initial days as a vamp while you attempt to keep Tristan calm and guide him to avoid using his Clann abilities. It is the best that we can do.”

So we were alone in this. Pass or fail, it was all up to us and only us to figure out how to bring an irrational, moody amnesiac vamp with magic skills far beyond my own back from the proverbial ledge. And to do it, we would be using antiquated training methods that had already failed my dad once. Worse, those training methods had been passed down from the very same vampire councilman who had gone rogue, tried to rip out Tristan’s heart and caused this entire mess in the first place.

The cabin door creaked open again, and my heartbeat pounded even harder in my chest and ears.

Tristan was awake.

I forced my mind to go blank and the air to fill and leave my lungs in a steadier rhythm.

A second later Tristan was at my other side. “I woke up and no one was around.”

“Just out getting some fresh air,” Dad murmured. “It is a lovely sunset, is it not?” A quick peek into his mind revealed he was thinking about nature.

But Tristan watched only me, frowning, his thoughts showing he was trying to read my emotions when he couldn’t get anything from my thoughts. “Are you okay?” Your heart is racing, and I can smell fear on you, he added silently.

I made myself smile. “Everything’s fine. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I woke up thirsty, though.”

Dad’s gaze darted sideways to meet mine. He turned toward us. “We should go inside and feed.”

But Tristan wasn’t listening. Frowning, he raised his chin several inches and sniffed the air. “What is that?”

“What?” I sniffed the air, too, but smelled only the chimney smoke, the dead leaves under our feet, the dirt.

And then Tristan was gone. He ran so fast that even my vamp eyes couldn’t follow his movements.

Shocked, I looked at Dad. “What the...”

“Deer hunters,” Dad growled.

Oh, God. Tristan had scented humans somewhere in the woods.

We took off after him with only the newly disturbed leaves to show where he had been.


CHAPTER 2

When we caught up to him minutes later, it was almost too late.

Trapped between Tristan and a tree, the lone human hunter gasped and struggled to breathe, Tristan’s hand at the man’s throat cutting off his airway, his rifle forgotten several yards away where he must have dropped it.

Tristan ducked his head, closing the distance between his fangs and the man’s throat, smiling in anticipation.

“Tristan, stop!” Dad shouted, forgetting that neither Tristan nor I could be compelled by any older vampire’s command due to our mix of Clann and vamp genes.

Tristan ignored him, his fangs burying themselves in the man’s neck a half second later.

“Tristan, please,” I begged, fear and horror making my own throat tighten up. If he killed this man, he would never forgive himself later. And I would never forgive myself for not stopping it. But how could I stop him? If I tried to yank them apart, Tristan’s fangs would rip the man’s throat open.

Either my words or the fear behind them made Tristan pause.

Why should I stop? Tristan thought, his fangs still deep within the man’s skin. But at least he was no longer gulping down his victim’s blood. I’m thirsty, and he’s food.

There are other ways to feed, ways that won’t hurt anyone. We have more than enough blood for all of us back at the cabin, I answered silently, not wanting to further scare Tristan’s victim, who stood paralyzed beneath Tristan’s grip. The poor man’s eyes were already round with terror because Tristan didn’t know how to gaze daze him first to calm him.

But why go all the way back there when this human is right here?

Tristan didn’t care about scaring the human, yet he continued to speak to me silently. He hadn’t responded to Dad’s command to stop, yet he was willing to listen to me. Whether due to my blood, the few memories we now shared because of it, or because some lingering emotion of love had survived the change within him, it seemed our bond was the only thing stopping him from going over the edge.

I had to find a way to use that bond to save him from his instincts. But how?

Because this isn’t who you really are, I thought.

But I’m thirsty, his mind snarled at me. And this blood is fresh. How could it be bad?

If only he had all his memories, this would be so much easier to explain. I struggled to find the right words, knowing this human’s life depended on what I thought next.

Right now, it seems like what you want. But that’s because you don’t have all your memories back yet. You will, though, in a few months probably. And when that happens, you’ll remember why you would never want to hurt this human or any other. Right now, biting him feels good. But later, the memory of that mistake will haunt you forever. And it’s a mistake you can’t ever take back once you make it.

That would have been enough of an explanation to make the old Tristan release his captive. But the new Tristan only raised his head a few inches and stared at me over one hunched shoulder, his red lips parted as if even this one small pause in feeding was excruciating to him. Gone was the boy I had loved for so long, replaced by a nearly mindless predator bent on ending someone’s life for his own pleasure. He had become everything I feared I might turn into if I made the wrong decisions or lost control for even an instant.

Something rang deep and hollow through me, reverberating off the core of love for Tristan that had always seemed so rock solid inside me and leaving behind a single, long crack. The strange sensation left me shaken inside and out. But I didn’t have time to figure it out right now. Something else to deal with some other day.

I had to find some way to convince Tristan not to kill this man. But what? He had no memories of his own to guide him, and obviously the few he’d gotten from my blood weren’t helping, either. Neither was trying to reason with him. If not for whatever blood bond we shared, he would have already drained the guy dry. He still could.

And if he killed this human with my dad as a witness, the vampire council would eventually read my dad’s memories of it. They would know we had been unable to prevent Tristan from losing control around a human.

I swallowed hard, my pulse beating at the base of my throat hard enough to rock my entire body. Tristan, if you hurt this human, I’ll—I’ll leave you. It was sheer desperation that made this thought pop into my head, and panic that had me latching on to it as the only threat that might get his attention.

His shoulders jerked up a couple of inches, his shock and hurt knifing through us both. You’d leave me? Over a stranger? But you made me this way!

I nodded and tried to ignore my own pain. This wasn’t about me. This was about saving Tristan. You’re right, I did turn you. But just because we’re different now doesn’t mean we have to hurt others. We still have a choice. We don’t have to be killers. And if you hurt this human, even if you get away with it, someday when you’re back to your old self and remember this moment, it will destroy you. And maybe what we have together, too. You might start to blame me for not finding a way to stop you. You would want me to do whatever it took to keep you from making this mistake.

I could see our future then, how his guilty conscience would tear him apart, how he would grow to hate himself. And me, too, even if he didn’t want to, because not only had I turned him but I’d failed to stop him from killing someone.

This moment would destroy us one way or another if I didn’t do whatever it took to stop him.

Curiosity kicked in within him. He cocked his head to the side, the human trapped beneath his grip all but forgotten. How are we different now?

You haven’t been this way for long. Before last night, you would never have even thought about attacking an innocent person like this.

And before last night, before I became...like this...were we always together?

We were best friends first, years ago as little kids. But I’ve always loved you. Since the beginning of time, it felt like. I’d give anything to go back in time to when things were so much easier for us.

You’re sad. You...don’t like me now because I’m different. Different how?

I love you, I thought fiercely, taking a step closer to him. I will always love you. But I do miss the way you used to be. The Tristan I fell in love with, my first best friend, would never hurt someone like this. I purposely remembered the day he’d helped one of my best friends, Michelle, off the high school track at an eighth-grade track meet when shin splints made it nearly impossible for her to walk on her own to the stands after her long-distance run. He hadn’t even known her, and it had happened before we’d started dating when his parents were still forbidding him from being friends with me. He hadn’t helped Michelle for me. He’d done it because he’d seen a stranger hurting and no one else had stepped up and helped.

He frowned as he watched that memory replay in my mind and tried to adjust his faint concept of himself with that brief glimpse of who he once was. The seconds ticked by, his broad palm still firm beneath his prey’s chin as he wrestled with his instincts.

I have no memory of this person you say I used to be, he finally thought. All I remember are moments of the two of us sitting by a stream somewhere and in a mirrored room dancing together. And something about you in a white dress with...wings?

A tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away as one corner of my lips twitched with the urge to smile. He remembered our dancing together at the Charmers masq ball fundraiser two years ago when we’d first begun to secretly date.

It was a Halloween costume, I silently explained.

Why can’t I remember much? His frown deepened as tinges of cold fear trickled from him. I feel like I should be able to remember more, but when I try, it’s like getting lost in a fog.

It’ll all come back. I promise. I’ll help you remember. But until your memory comes back, can you please just trust me and let this man go?

You won’t leave me?

I swallowed down the hard lump in my throat and shook my head. We’ll figure this out together.

Taking a deep breath, Tristan stepped away from the human, releasing him and moving to my side in a blur even my own eyes struggled to follow. The human started to slump down the bare hardwood tree’s trunk in shock. Dad darted forward and caught him before he hit the ground, pulling him to his feet then capturing the man’s gaze with his own. Under the thrall of the vampire gaze daze, the man’s eyes widened then went blank as Dad began to murmur instructions to him to alter his memory and send him safely home.

If only recovering Tristan’s memory could be as easy as making this human forget part of his.

My own knees weak with relief, I slipped an arm around Tristan’s waist and slowly led him through the woods back toward the cabin. And tried not to think about how much the sweet, delicious scent of blood on his lips made my stomach clench and my heart race with need.

We spent every waking moment of the next five months training Tristan to control the speed of his reflexes and movements using tai chi, because it had worked so well for both my dad and me. Dad’s theory was that a lot of a fledgling’s control issues came from the fact that our bodies moved even faster than our minds, so instinctual urges to feed kicked in and made us attack before we could even realize what we were doing and make a conscious decision to stop ourselves.

The longer Tristan practiced tai chi, the more I began to see hints of the Tristan I’d loved for so long. His movements became less like a bird’s and more fluid, like the human athlete he used to be. As Tristan developed self-control, he also gained something other than his memory loss to focus on, which allowed him to relax and gradually become more independent.

When I wasn’t helping Dad train Tristan, I was working on homework. And there was a lot of it. I’d figured Tristan and I could retake our junior year of high school someday after Tristan got his memory back. If we were both going to live forever, what was one year’s delay in our education going to matter? But Dad insisted on signing us up for homeschooling via the internet and having me do both Tristan’s and my homework so we wouldn’t fall behind. Once Tristan’s memory returned, the plan was to have him speed-read over everything he’d missed to get caught up.

I think Dad was just trying to keep me busy so I wouldn’t worry all the time.

But how could I not? Especially with Tristan’s sister, Emily, constantly texting requests for updates on Tristan’s progress. At first I thought she was just concerned about her little brother. But lately I’d started to wonder if maybe she wasn’t the only one in the Clann who was worried about Tristan.

One early April morning, my cell phone’s beep woke me up with an alert for a new text message.

Still half-asleep, I rolled onto my side, grabbed my phone, and cracked one eyelid to read the message before the beeping could wake anyone else.



My mother wants to know when you two will be coming back to Jacksonville.



Why would we return? I texted back.



You have to, Emily’s reply read. The Clann needs to be sure he’s in control and not a danger to anyone.

I scowled at the screen. As far as I was concerned, we were never going back to Jacksonville. How could we, when Tristan was still more animal than man? I wasn’t sure he could even control himself in a crowd full of humans, much less descendants.

Sighing, I propped up on one elbow, looked around and froze.

I was alone in the cabin.

Had Tristan run outside after another hunter? Maybe Dad had been in too much of a hurry chasing after him to wake me? If so, why hadn’t I heard anything?

My pulse racing, I jumped to my feet and rushed toward the door. But movement outside the window stopped me. Tristan and Dad were practicing tai chi a few yards from the cabin.

Blowing out a long sigh of relief, I moved closer to the window to watch them, and a sigh of a different kind slipped from my lungs.

In the cold morning air, still predawn gray, Tristan’s fiercely determined focus turned each motion into a thing of both beauty and danger, like a fighter in a martial arts movie preparing for a battle. I wrapped my arms around myself and watched him unseen and unheard for once, and in that moment remembered again why I loved him. It wasn’t just the way he moved, or the beautiful lines formed by his sculpted body, honed by endless football practices over the years and perfected by vampire blood. It was the look in his eyes, the firm set to his mouth and jaw, that single-minded determination to succeed at whatever he attempted. Just like he always had.

It was a rare glimpse of the old Tristan I knew and loved and had missed every waking day of the past five months.

When he smoothly slid down into a low right lunge in Form 16, I actually shivered. A minute later, as he progressed to Form 18 and his left palm slowly pushed forward as if pressing open an invisible door, my shiver turned into full-on goose bumps down the back of my neck and arms. But this time it wasn’t because of the beauty of the moment.

Tristan was about to use magic.

I had time to think Oh, no and rush for the door. By the time I opened it a half second later, a nearby tree had already gone up in a thunderous boom of flames. The morning’s tai chi lesson was definitely over.

Tristan stared at the tree. He glanced down at his hands then up at me, his eyes wide as I ran over to him.

“I... Did I just...” he sputtered.

“It’s okay,” I said, taking his hands into mine. “You did it with your willpower and that bundle of energy inside you. Can you feel that energy?”

He frowned then slowly nodded.

“Good. Now focus on that energy. Think about keeping it as a tight ball inside you if you can.”

“I didn’t mean to set the tree on fire. I just...I was ticked off. I got distracted. I was thinking...”

I read his mind. He was thinking that he was tired of not knowing who and what he was. And then his anger had triggered his willpower to kick in and spit out a bit of magic in the form of a fireball.

A fireball that could have easily killed my dad or me if he’d aimed it in a different direction.

I pushed that thought away. “I know. It was an accident. That’s why we do the tai chi. It gives you a way to physically get the emotions out without, well, blowing stuff up.” I turned toward the tree, took a deep breath, held out my hands, and willed the tree to cool off. The flames died down then extinguished in a thick cloud of smoke.

“Savannah, the smoke...” Dad muttered. “Others will see it for miles. Can you do anything to disperse it?”

I thought for a moment, nibbling at the inner corner of my mouth. Then I raised my hands and imagined a strong breeze blowing out from my palms toward the smoke.

Tristan hissed and rubbed his arms as wind whispered to life, gathered the smoke, and shredded it into long gray ribbons that trailed off into nothing.

“There.” I turned to Tristan with a forced smile. “See? All better. Just try to keep your willpower under control and you’ll be okay.”

But Tristan was frozen in place, staring with wide, unseeing eyes at the now blackened trees.

“Tristan?”

He didn’t blink, didn’t move, his mind a million miles away in another place and time when he had last worked with someone to learn how to control his Clann powers.

TRISTAN

Images I didn’t understand at first flashed through my mind, of myself and a big bear of a man with a thick silver beard standing in a yard at night.

Then I recognized him. The answers flowed to me without my having to struggle for them.

Dad. We were standing in the backyard behind our house.

Okay, Dad said. So here’s the basics of casting a spell. Every witch starts off at the beginner level of spell casting by saying a word and using a small hand gesture. This helps you focus and control when the spell is actually cast, until you learn how to discipline your mind. Someday, when you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to cast a spell even if you’re tied up with your mouth taped shut, just by thinking the word and using your willpower. Eventually you’ll learn to cast a spell without a word at all, just by thinking about the results you want to create. Like you do when you create fire or ground your energy.

The brief memory was like the strong wind Savannah had just whispered into life, blowing away the mental fog that had filled my head for months now. I remembered. Everything that had been lost to me came back in wave after wave of memory. I remembered Dad training me how to use magic...the vamp council abducting me and handcuffing me to a chair in their underground Paris headquarters to test Savannah’s self-control...Mom expecting me to follow in Dad’s footsteps to become the next Clann leader and how desperately I had wanted to play pro football someday instead and our endless family arguments about it...Dad’s death...Mom’s heartache turning into happiness as I finally took the stone throne as Clann leader...the pain that exploded in my chest as Gowin tried to rip out my heart through my back...and then waking up in Savannah’s arms with only the memory of her smile to anchor me as everything else faded beneath the fog that had filled my head.

I remembered it all. But it was too much too fast, a thousand different memories and emotions swirling around me like a tornado trying to rip me into pieces. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control it.

I had to get away, get some air, find a way to sort through it all one memory and emotion at a time before I went insane.


CHAPTER 3

SAVANNAH

Tristan staggered, and I reached out for him. But he turned away, a choking tidal wave of shock and horror swamping him as memory after memory slammed into him from every direction, each one tied to and triggering the next, each one robbing his lungs of air or the ability to draw another breath.

“Tristan!” I took a step after him. He was getting his memories back, but they were returning too fast. No one should be hit with seventeen years’ worth of memories all at once.

“Dad, the memories...they’re all coming back.” What should I do? Should I try to hold him, let him feel me there beside him so he would know he wasn’t alone?

I reached out for Tristan again, but he brushed my hand away and stumbled toward the nearby ledge where he liked to go sometimes to sit and watch the sun set. My heart missed a beat. He was getting too close to the edge. He would survive the fall, according to Dad. But I still didn’t want to see him hurt.

“Let him go. He will need some time and space to work through them on his own.”

I held my breath until Tristan found the large stone he usually sat on. His hands fumbled over its surface, guiding him as he sank down onto the rock.

“Are you sure he should be alone right now?”

“Yes, I am sure. Some things you cannot save him from.”

I hated the idea of Tristan having to deal with the return of his memories alone. Especially the memory of his father’s death, which had happened just a week before Tristan had nearly died and I’d had to turn him in order to keep him alive.

But I followed Dad’s suggestion, staying when I wanted to follow, watching when I wanted to actively help in some way. After a moment of silence, I realized Dad was actually smiling.

“You can’t possibly be happy about this,” I snapped. “Tristan’s hurting. I know you’re not that callous.”

“I do not enjoy his mental pain, no. But the return of his memories means he will quickly regain all his former self-control and discipline. The one advantage of his being who he was within the Clann is that he should have had plenty of previous training in these areas. Otherwise he never would have been able to keep his infamous Coleman Clann abilities contained in public. And if he could contain those abilities...”

“Then he can control his vamp instincts, too,” I finished for him without looking away from the slump of Tristan’s shoulders. He’d always had the best posture, holding his shoulders back, unashamed that his six-foot-plus height made him taller than most.

“Correct. Which means our days of training here on this mountain are at an end, and we must prepare to take him back to Jacksonville.”

“Jacksonville?” I hissed, finally able to look at my dad. “Are you crazy? We can’t go back there!”

“We must. The council demands it.”

“The council...” I sputtered. “You’ve got to be kidding. They can’t possibly want us to go back into Clann territory.”

“But they do. They know you and Tristan can read the descendants’ thoughts.”

And then it sank in. I groaned. “No. No way. Tristan and I are not going to spy for the council.”

Dad stared at me, his silver eyes darkening to a slate-gray. “You must. The council demands it.”

I stared back at him with one eyebrow raised. We both knew how much I loved being told what to do by the council.

He sighed. “Let me rephrase. Caravass and the other council members would greatly appreciate it if you two would consider going back to Jacksonville and keeping us apprised of any alarming developments within the Clann. They only wish to maintain peace with the Clann, nothing more.”

I leaned in closer. “Tristan is just now getting his memories back, including the ones about his family. And now the council wants him to go spy on them?”

“They cast him out of the Clann.”

“Because they had to! He’s a vampire now. They couldn’t let a vamp be a member.” Wasn’t it in the Clann laws or something? They sure seemed to have some rule about descendants and vamps dating, considering they’d cast out my mother for marrying my father, and then cast out my grandmother for failing to stop that union.

“I repeat, the council only seeks any information that will help them maintain the peace treaty with the Clann. Nothing more.”

I searched his thoughts. He was telling the truth.

The anger seeped out of me, leaving a horrible sinking feeling behind. “I really don’t want to go back there.” I tried to control my voice, but a slight tremble snuck into it anyway. “You of all people have got to understand what it’s like...finally getting to be with the person you love, facing all that hatred and judgment. The descendants are going to want to kill me for turning Tristan! In fact, they probably won’t even want us back there.”

It was Dad’s turn to stare at me with one eyebrow arched. “Do not think I have not read Emily’s messages requesting Tristan’s return to Jacksonville. I am well aware that his mother and the rest of the Clann seek reassurance that he is no longer a danger.”

I turned away and crossed my arms.

“Savannah, do try to be mature about this. We must return to Jacksonville. It is the only way to reassure the Clann that you and Tristan are no longer a threat to them. And the council is relying upon us to provide them with accurate warnings only the two of you can provide. Think of the good that you can do, the lives that you can save, by helping to prevent another war.”

Great. Dad must have picked up a few of my mother’s guilt trip methods. He was doing a really great job of making me feel like a selfish child.

I hung my head and closed my eyes. I had gone through so much for years now because of the stupid hate and fear between the vamps and the Clann...I’d given up my dreams of being a dancer on my high school dance team so I wouldn’t reveal my vamp abilities to the world. I’d risked everything, even losing my Nanna, by breaking the rules to date Tristan. I’d even given up being with Tristan for months just to make the vampire council and the Clann happy.

And now, when it finally seemed that Tristan and I could safely be together at last without breaking any rules, without having to sneak around...now when his memory had finally returned and I could have my Tristan back again...the council had the nerve to make yet another demand.

I was so tired of it all...of the hate and the fear and the whispers and judging stares, of having to do what everyone else wanted. When would it matter what I wanted? Or what Tristan wanted? Even now, after everything we’d gone through, we still weren’t free.

Dad tried to rest a hand on my shoulder, but I took a step forward so his hand fell away.

He sighed. “Do you not miss your friends and your dance team?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I assumed I would never see them again.”

“Well, now you can.”

I didn’t want to, but I could hear my dad’s thoughts as he struggled for some new and more compelling argument to try with me. As my dad, he hated having to push me on this issue. But as a representative of the vampire council, he was duty bound to. He would be forced to badger me endlessly until I gave in.

I gritted my teeth and held up a hand to stop him. “Fine. We’ll go back to Jacksonville. But only when Tristan is ready. Until then, until he’s sure he’s in control, we’re staying right here. Okay?”

“Agreed.”

Tristan stayed out at the ridge all day. By sunset, I couldn’t take it anymore and had to join him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, reaching out to him and then hesitating before dropping my hand at my own side again. Maybe he still wanted to be alone.

He continued to stare out at the sky, now slowly darkening beneath the early winter sunset. “I remember everything. Dad and Mom, Emily and Gowin. You and me. The Clann and the vampire council. The battle at the Circle, and Gowin’s sucker punch through my back. You turning me.”

I froze, fearing my nightmare was about to come true. Did he hate me for the selfish decision I’d made, for my inability to let him die?

He finally turned his head to look at me. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Sorry about the amnesia. I didn’t know about it till after I’d turned you, since I never had it. I didn’t know it would be so complete or last this long.”

He gave a half shrug and returned to staring at the sky. “It’s over. That’s all that matters.”

I nodded in silence, not knowing what else to say. After spending so many days trying to adjust to the childlike and helpless Tristan, I had to readjust to the return of the old Tristan. Except he still wasn’t quite himself.

For instance, he hadn’t reached out to touch me in any way yet.

“Sorry. Guess I’ve been a little lost lately.” Sighing, he reached out to take my hand and gently tug me closer.

As soon as his hand touched mine, warmth spread over my skin and the tension melted from my whole body. It was going to be okay now. We’d made it through the hardest part.

I sat down beside him before relief could make my legs give out beneath me, wrapped an arm across the small of his back and rested my cheek against the muscled curve of his shoulder. “I missed you. The real you, I mean.”

“I missed me, too.” He raised our joined hands to press a slow kiss to each of my fingers.

I raised my head, and he leaned over and kissed my lips. A heady mix of relief and love rose up through my body, stealing my breath and driving me to wrap both arms around him. The intensity of the emotions surprised both of us, and when we stopped to catch a breath, one corner of his mouth rose.

“Wow. You really did miss me, didn’t you?”

“I was afraid....” Too many emotions pounded through me to put them into words...the gut-wrenching fear of losing him when he nearly died, the horror of discovering I’d temporarily turned him into more animal than man, the responsibility of keeping him safe from his own actions and the fear of screwing up as his sire, being terrified for months that I’d only saved him physically but might never have the real Tristan back, the agonizing guilt and worry over whether I’d made the wrong decision after all by turning him. It was too much to describe out loud, so I simply let him see and feel all the emotions and memories inside my head.

“Hey, it’s okay now,” he murmured, cupping my face and using his thumbs to brush away my tears of relief. “I’m not going anywhere ever again. It’s you and me till the end of time. Or at least until you decide you can’t stand me anymore.”

He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead, then each cheek, the tip of my nose and then my lips again.

And I was finally whole once more.

The moment Dad exited the cabin and got close enough to us for me to pick up his thoughts, though, I remembered my promise to him and the tension flowed right back into me.

I sighed and rested my forehead against Tristan’s. “Did you hear what Dad said earlier about the council’s newest request?”

“About our going back to Jacksonville?”

I nodded, my throat making a dry, sticky sound as I tried to swallow past the growing tightness within it.

“Yeah, I heard.” He hesitated. “I also heard the part where my sister and mother want us to come back, too.”

“Yeah. The Clann wants to be sure you’re...you know, in control of everything.”

“Okay. So we’ll go back to Jacksonville.”

I leaned back to frown at him. “You’d actually spy on your friends and family?”

“I’d never tell the council anything that could hurt the Clann. But if I were the council, I’d want to keep a close and constant eye on the Clann, too. You’ve got to understand, collectively sometimes the Clann acts like a bunch of scared cattle ready to stampede whether it makes sense to or not. Look at how they tried to keep us apart for so long.”

“Yeah, well maybe they had a point there. Look at what ended up happening to you.”

“Hey, I’m happy that you finally turned me. Now we can be together without you worrying about draining me every time we kiss.”

“True. But at what cost? You’ve lost your family.”

“I didn’t lose them. My mother made her choice. She sided with the Clann over me. Besides, you and your dad are my family now. Right?”

“Yeah, but, Tristan, your mother and sister still love you, too.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, staring in silence as the sun disappeared beneath the curve of the earth and the sky deepened into dark shades of purple.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, deeper. “Your dad’s right, Sav. We might be able to help prevent another war. If the peace treaty fails, it’s not just the vamps and the Clann who would be hurt. It would be your friends—Anne and Carrie and Michelle—and any other humans who got caught in the cross fire. Not to mention Ron and all of the Keepers.”

He draped an arm around my shoulders, and I nestled against him, resting my head in the hard curve where his shoulder and neck met. I wished I could burrow even deeper, somehow get away from his words and the entire world around us.

But there was no way to escape my own mind or the realization that Dad and Tristan were both right. Much as I hated it.

“Is it so wrong of me to just want to be with you without a panel of judges constantly weighing in on everything we say and do?” I whispered.

“No, it’s not wrong.” He slowly rubbed my back, his broad, strong hand soothing my nerves. It was every bit as comforting as a cup of Nanna’s homegrown chamomile tea used to be.

Silence fell like a soft blanket over us. But its weight seemed to grow heavier on me with every passing second.

Finally I sighed. “Okay. We’ll do the right thing and go back to Jacksonville.”


CHAPTER 4

“Please?” Tristan murmured with big puppy-dog eyes. “I love you. I adore you. Don’t tell me you’re going to hold out on me now, after all we’ve been through.”

“No, Tristan. The answer was no yesterday, and last night, and two hours ago, and it’s still no now.” Crossing my arms, I leaned against my silver Corvette Stingray. “And if you keep up the whining, I’m going to be late for Charmers practice. And we both know how much Mrs. Daniels loves people who show up late for practice.”

“But, Sav, it’s a Corvette! How can you refuse to let me drive it? Just this once? Pretty please?”

“Nuh-uh. You say it’s just this once. But once you’ve driven a ’Vette, there’s no going back. You’ll be whining the same old tune every single day for the rest of our lives. Which means you’ll literally be bugging me for all eternity about this. Let’s just agree to drop it now and get on with our day, okay?”

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

“Nope. Not going to work.” I made a point of looking at my watch then circling around the car to the driver’s side. “Now would you please hurry up and get in?” Thank heavens we lived in town. If we’d had to drive the ten miles from Nanna’s house, we would most definitely be late. I would have to push the speed limit as it was just to get us there on time.

Heaving a noisy sigh, he got into the car, and I had to hide a smile as I reached for my seat belt. “Put your seat belt on, please. I don’t want to get pulled over for a belt violation again.”

“Again? How often do you get pulled over?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to get pulled over by a Clann cop even once when you’re a vamp.”

I slipped and let a memory flit through my mind of the one time I’d been pulled over. To this day, I still occasionally had nightmares of the hatred and barely restrained violence in that uniformed descendant’s thoughts as he’d held me trapped there in my car for ten long minutes while he decided whether to be a good cop or an even better descendant.

Tristan grabbed my hand, his eyes furious. “Seriously? Did he do anything, or just think about doing it?”

Crap. I really needed to find a way to block this mind connection thing between us. I swallowed hard. “Don’t worry, he was a good cop. That day. But I don’t ever want to tempt him again. Which is why we can’t speed this morning to make up time.”

“I should—” he began in a growl.

“No, you shouldn’t. Just use it as a lesson. We’ve got to be on our toes about this stuff. And I’m not just talking about following the traffic laws here. We can’t do anything to give any of them a reason to go after us. Okay? No matter how much they may push us, we’ve got to keep it together. No mistakes, no losing control.” I searched his eyes, needing to know he was hearing me loud and clear here.

He sighed, letting go of his anger for now. “Yeah, okay.”

He put on his seat belt, and I put the key into the ignition. Then I caught his longing stare at the steering wheel.

He really wanted to drive my car.

I groaned. “Fine. Just this once, you can—”

But he was already out the door and around the car, opening the door for me like a chauffeur.

Laughing, I got out and let the spoiled brat have his way, as usual.

Ten minutes later we pulled into the parking lot with two whole minutes to spare, Tristan still grinning just like he had the whole way here. Shaking my head, I grabbed my trusty blue leather Charmers duffle bag, got out and circled the car so I could lean in through the driver’s side window to say goodbye.

The plan was for him to stay in the car till the bell for first period rang in an hour and a half. Then he’d head for the office in the main hall, where he would once again be helping out as an office aide till second period.

So I was surprised when he got out of the car with me.

“Just wanted to say a proper goodbye now that we don’t have to hide anymore,” he murmured, leaning against the side of the car and pulling me against him for a kiss.

Realizing we were out in the open where anyone could see us together sent a thrill skittering across my every nerve ending and made my lips curve into a huge grin against his. “Hmm. I could get used to this.”

We kissed again, then he leaned his head back a few inches and grinned. “And just think, we’ve also got lunch together in the cafeteria to look forward to.”

I pictured his sitting beside me at my friends’ table. Just the idea seemed like a fantasy that couldn’t possibly ever come true. And yet it would. Today. My heart skipped another beat in anticipation.

Then I remembered...all the Clann kids would be staring at us in the cafeteria. I could already imagine how much they would love seeing their former leader, now a vamp, sitting with the enemy instead of them. I sighed, my excitement deflating a bit. If only we were at some other school...

“They’ll get over it,” Tristan said. “Today might be rough, but eventually they’ll get so used to seeing us together that they won’t even think about it anymore.”

“Promises, promises,” I muttered. Then I checked my watch and hissed. “Ouch. I have really gotta go.” I gave him one last kiss, turned away then hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“With sitting in the ’Vette till first period? Sure. What’s the big deal?”

“No, I mean with...this.” I waved a hand at the school campus. “You, me, being back here so soon. I know what Dad and the council and your mother want, but are you sure—”

The image of him pinning that nameless hunter to a tree in the Arkansas woods flashed through my mind. I pushed it away, but not fast enough.

Tristan’s head rocked back as if I’d slapped him. After a long beat of silence, he muttered, “That won’t happen again, Savannah.”

Great. Now I’d done it.

“Right,” I said too quickly with a smile that felt fake even to me. “I know that. You weren’t yourself that day. Now you are.”

Except now we would be facing a way bigger challenge than resisting regular human blood. Today we would be around members of the Clann, each one of them full of the most tempting blood any vamp could ever wish for, thanks to the powerful extra energy their magical abilities filled them with. Tristan was going to feel like a newly recovering alcoholic forced to spend eight hours trapped inside a bar.

A bar where just asking for a drink could risk starting a war, and would also probably send the vamp council after us, as well.

And there was nothing more I could do to help him resist that urge to drink.

He looked down at his feet, staring without seeing, his mind filling with images and memories...of the feel of that hunter’s fragile neck trapped within his hand, the human’s heartbeat pounding beneath his fingertips. The taste of the blood as it had rushed down Tristan’s throat, warming him, filling him not just with energy and life but a rush of power and excitement, as well.

Just a short moment in time that had seemed so good yet now had become his worst mistake ever. A mistake that had haunted his nightmares yet again last night.

He hated himself for that mistake, for what he had done and nearly could have done to that innocent human. Thanks to his victim’s blood memories, he knew that man, though divorced, still loved and missed his wife and the two little girls he only got to see at Christmas now that their mother had moved them three states away. He knew that man had been in those woods hunting only because this Christmas, he hadn’t had enough money to see his girls, so he’d gone hunting alone to try to distract himself from his misery and loneliness. And he’d nearly died because Tristan had lost control.

“But he didn’t die,” I murmured, my heart hurting for Tristan so much it caused a physical ache within my chest. “He’s still alive with no memory of what happened.”

“Yeah, well, you and I sure remember.”

Tristan wouldn’t look at me now, his gaze rising only as high as my knees. But I could see the misery in his eyes.

All the joking around about who would drive us to school this morning had been an act, a distraction to keep him from thinking about what he would be facing today. He was worried, too, afraid he wouldn’t be strong enough, and scared to admit that fear to me or even to himself.

And here I was with my stupid, wayward memories adding to his fear and making his first day back even harder on him.

“I’m sorry I remembered that.” I laid a hand along one hard side of his face, waiting until he looked me in the eyes. “I wish I wasn’t worried, or that at least I could turn off this mind connection thing sometimes so you wouldn’t have to feel my worry. But just because I’m worried doesn’t mean I don’t have faith in you. I know you’ll do your best to stay in control today. I just also know how hard it can be to fight the bloodlust, especially for Clann blood.” I hesitated, then handed him a thin braid of red, brown and white.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice coming out rough.

“Remember that old tapestry blanket we always shared at the cabin? I pulled some threads from it before we left.”

One corner of his mouth hitched as he stared down at the braid.

I gently took it back from him then tied it around his left wrist. “And then I added a little oomph to it to help block any vamp wards the descendants might be using today. It should last you through at least the morning, if not the whole day, and we can recharge it tonight if needed.” I had a matching one tied around my left ankle under my sock, so I wouldn’t have to answer any questions from my friends about it.

Now both sides of his mouth curved up. He lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes softer as some of the fear there was replaced with love. “Thanks, Sav.”

I leaned in for one last kiss, resting my palms against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, feeling his heart beating beneath my fingertips.

I rested my forehead against his. “No matter what happens today, I’ll still love you,” I whispered, wishing there was some other spell I could do to somehow magically make this day easier for him.

We stood there in silence for a moment longer, both of us trying not to think or worry.

I wanted to stay with him in the parking lot. I’d gotten spoiled, used to being with him all the time. Maybe it was because he carried some of my blood within himself now, or maybe it was because I could read his thoughts as easily as my own. Whatever the reason, over the past five months, he had become like an extension of my own body, so much so that sometimes when we held hands I could no longer tell where his hand ended and mine began. All I knew was that when I was with him I felt warmer, almost human again. And when we were apart, I felt cold and every bit the inhuman hybrid I really was.

But it was time to return to reality, whether I was ready for it or not.

So I took a deep breath then forced myself to step away from him, hating the feel of his arms loosening around me and then their complete absence. The moment we no longer touched, I could already feel my body losing the tiny amount of heat it always managed to generate from direct contact between our skin, setting me up for a long day of hiding shivers I wasn’t supposed to have in the humid, late, East Texas spring.

As I crossed the parking lot and headed for Charmers practice, trying to resist the urge to rub the growing chill from my arms, I looked back over my shoulder at Tristan and said, “See you for lunch? I’ve got chem class second period today. Maybe you could pick me up outside it?”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he said, “It’s a date.”

The third floor of the sports and arts building—where the Charmers’ dance room, storage closets and director’s office were located—had a great second set of stairs that led down to the left side of the school theater’s stage. This backstage access between the floors allowed the dancers and stage crew to easily run up and down the stairs during shows without having to be seen in the second floor foyer where audience members might be. It was also the most direct route for me this morning. Two weeks before a Spring Show usually meant the Charmers would still be working out the kinks in each show number’s choreography and transitions, which meant frequent rewinding and fast-forwarding to specific parts in each song. The theater’s built-in sound system was harder to do this kind of stuff on, so I figured we would probably still be using the portable sound system for a few more days.

The sophomore managers were running even later than I was, judging by the fact that the sound system and trainer’s bag were still in the director’s office. By the time I retrieved the equipment and brought it down the backstage stairs, most of the Charmers had already arrived and gathered to stretch in the two aisles that cut through the auditorium’s seating, and the sophomore managers were just strolling in through the main auditorium doors.

The familiar dusty smells of paint and freshly sanded wooden props made me sigh and smile. Now here was a silver lining to having to come back to Jacksonville. While football season came in a close second, Spring Show season was my absolute favorite time of the Charmers performance year. I was lucky that we’d returned in time for me to help with it. Normally Spring Show happened a few weeks earlier in the year. But this year for some reason the director had pushed the show back, and we still had two more weeks of rehearsals left. Maybe there had been some scheduling conflict for use of the theater?

I slipped through the wing’s shadows and along the side of the center stage, stopping at its front edge, or apron, to set down the sound system. Immediately several people gasped and whispered my name, and all conversation in the auditorium died.

I froze and looked up to find forty-plus dancers equally frozen in midstretch, their eyes blinking fast as they openly stared at me.

That’s when I realized I was on stage, both literally and figuratively.

And though the theater was silent, their thoughts were anything but.

Oh. My. God. She actually had the nerve to come back?

Miss Savannah’s back! Oh, thank God. If I had to listen to Mrs. Daniels rip the soph managers apart one more time...

Oh, boy. Miss Savannah’s back. I wonder if Tristan’s back, too. If he is, just wait till Miss Bethany sees him. That’ll be a show!

I forced my suddenly stiff legs to carry me down the short flight of stairs off the side of the stage and into the audience area, then around to the front edge of the stage so I could finish setting up the sound system. This also gave me a reason to keep my back to everyone and hide my face so they wouldn’t see me react to the thoughts that kept washing over me in wave after wave. After five blissful months of having to listen to only Dad’s and Tristan’s thoughts, I’d forgotten just how loud a bunch of humans thinking fast and furiously could be. I’d have to reschool my face not to show anything.

And still their thoughts kept coming.

Miss Savannah’s back! Just in time, too, ’cuz I was totally considering quitting this team. Bad enough having to fetch crap constantly, much less get yelled at every single day. Just because I haven’t had as much practice working the music like Miss Savannah has doesn’t mean I deserve to be made to feel like crap about it...

Wow. Look at her...you can’t even tell she was ever pregnant. I wonder who’s watching the baby? Or maybe she gave it up for adoption? Maybe Tristan found out it was Ron Abernathy’s and made her give it up?

Whoa. Gone away for five months to secretly have Ron’s baby? That was the rumor behind my disappearance? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

I pressed a shaky hand to my forehead as it started to pound. Normally I would have dreaded listening to the sniping thoughts of the Clann. But right now, I would have given anything to have a descendant’s mind to listen to and drown out the humans’ thoughts instead. At least the descendants all knew the real reason behind our absence. Unfortunately no descendant had made the dance team in the past couple of years. Maybe they preferred being on the cheer team. Or maybe they were just avoiding me.

I took a deep breath. Focus, Sav. Just think about what you’re here to do. The gossip will die down eventually.

“Miss Savannah!”

I turned around just in time to be wrapped in a tight hug.

Mrs. Daniels leaned back, gripping my shoulders, her face lit up. “Oh, thank G—” She glanced sideways at a nearby sophomore manager. “I mean, I’m so happy you’re back! You are back for good now, aren’t you?” Her eyes turned a little panicky.

“Um, yes, ma’am.” I blinked fast, trying to assimilate the fact that my usually frosty dance team director had just hugged me.

She let out the longest sigh. “That is the best news I’ve had all year. Welcome back, dear!”

We can finally get our practices back on track! Mrs. Daniels thought to herself as she turned and headed back up the aisle to take a seat toward the center back of the audience. Too bad Savannah wasn’t here for the first part of show season; maybe then we could have held the show when we were supposed to, instead of having to delay it because of these inept newbie managers. I swear, this has been the longest year of my life!

I had to turn back to the stereo to hide a smile. At least someone on this team was happy I was back.

“Hey, Miss Savannah!” A voice behind me made me turn around yet again to find the entire team lining up to welcome me back with hugs as they followed their director’s lead. They still weren’t sure why I had missed five months of school. But if their director was okay with my return, then they would be, too.

I noticed Bethany Brookes, however, wasn’t so eager to join the welcome wagon. She stopped to fiddle with her shoe, then took her time removing her warm-ups from over her dance outfit. By the time she managed to actually get in line, Mrs. Daniels was calling everyone to get ready for the start of practice. Bethany’s shoulders seemed to sag a bit with relief as she took a seat with the dancers who weren’t climbing the stage steps in preparation for the first number.

Bethany and I had always had a lot of awkward tension between us, though we both did our best to be polite to each other in spite of it. She was actually a really nice girl. It wasn’t her fault that Mrs. Daniels had started to call out my number, then corrected herself and called out Bethany’s instead, at Charmers tryouts our freshman year. Or that Bethany used to have a terrible crush on Tristan while he and I were secretly dating last year. Or that he accidentally and very stupidly led her on for months after the vamp council and Clann made me break up with him.

And now she probably knew, or was about to find out, that he and I were very publicly together again.

I just hoped she wouldn’t hold it against me for too long. Otherwise getting through Charmers practices was going to be extremely awkward.

By the end of first period, I was all too eager to escape to chemistry class, where Ron also surprised me with a huge hug as soon as I walked up to our lab table.

“It’s about time!” he said with a grin as we settled onto our wobbly metal stools. “So? How’s the...uh...new situation working out?”

“Well, we’re both here today,” I answered cautiously, trying and failing to ignore the fresh wave of whispers involving both my and Tristan’s names that broke out behind us.

Ugh. First the Charmers. Then everyone on campus that I’d been forced to walk past on my way here. And now this. Was it going to be like this all day long? I honestly didn’t know how much more of the JHS rumor mill I could take.

“Oh, yeah, she totally slept with both of them, so it’s anybody’s guess who the baby daddy really is,” someone whispered.

That was it.

I twisted around to glare at my classmates, stopping just short of baring my fangs at them. The whispering stopped.

Hmm. Maybe being the only female vamp on campus did have some perks after all.

“And our golden boy?” Ron asked. “How’s the...er, transition going?”

I faced forward again and shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t heard any screams or explosions yet, so I guess he’s doing all right so far.”

Ron laughed as he reached for a glass beaker to begin the day’s lab experiment. Then he glanced at me and realized I was serious. “Jeez. You two must have had a fun five months away.”

“Oh, yeah, and then some.” I scowled at the lab table’s black enamel surface, scarred by countless knicks and bored students’ carvings. “Let’s just say it’s been a learning process for both of us.”

Ron grunted. “I guess it’s safe to assume you two won’t be eating with us in the cafeteria then?”

I looked at him in surprise. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Uh, because of all the humans and descendants that’ll be packed in there?”

“He thinks he can handle it. He’s even looking forward to it now that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Ron snickered. “Yeah? And is he also looking forward to getting grilled by all of your friends? Who, I should mention, all blame Tristan for your five-month absence from their lives.”

Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. I’d stayed in contact with my friends by way of the occasional text message. But life in that cabin in Arkansas had been pretty boring, and since Anne was the only one of my human friends who knew the truth about vampires and the Clann, I hadn’t been able to say much to Carrie or Michelle.

So now, not only would Tristan be dealing with smelling and hearing all those humans and their stinky human food and the hateful descendants around us—plus feeling the Clann kids’ constant scrutiny of his every little twitch and blink—but he would also be trying to earn my friends’ approval as my boyfriend.

Not to mention we’d be sort of rubbing our relationship into poor Bethany Brookes’s face.

What the heck was I thinking when I agreed to our eating together in the cafeteria?

Groaning, I propped my elbows on the table and buried my face in my hands. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

“Probably. But it’ll sure be entertaining.”

I stared down at the sheet of instructions, the letters blurring together into a meaningless jumble. Somehow I had to find a way to talk Tristan out of our going to the cafeteria today. Maybe I could convince him to delay tackling that challenge till later in the week when we both knew he could handle being around so many humans and descendants. Facing it all on his first day back, however, was practically suicidal.

The problem was finding a way to bring up this suggestion in a way that wouldn’t further bruise his ego and make him think I had no faith in him.

I rubbed my pounding temples and tried to figure out the best arguments to use on him. Deep down inside, I had a hunch nothing I said was going to come out right. Especially since he could read every thought in my head whether I verbalized it or not.

Why wasn’t there some kind of training manual for sires of teenaged vamps, like How to Train Your Teen Fledgling?

I glanced at the clock on the wall, which suddenly seemed to have sped up. All morning long, the seconds had eked by while I worried about Tristan losing control in class.

Now I wanted nothing more than for time to slow down again.


CHAPTER 5

TRISTAN

I was waiting for her at the door of her chemistry class before the bell rang. She didn’t see me at first, her head bent as she slowly gathered her things, those too-kissable lips of hers turned down into a frown as she trudged across the room toward me.

Then she looked up. Our eyes met, and she smiled.

And just like that, getting through the long, boring, tense morning was worth it.

Ron Abernathy shot me a sympathetic grin as he exited the room. “Good luck at lunch,” he muttered, not sticking around long enough for me to figure out what that was supposed to mean.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Savannah and finally getting to be a real couple with her. No more secrets. No more lies or sneaking around.

God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, forgetting yet again that I could hear her.

I swallowed down a laugh. She knew just what to think to make a guy feel like he could take on the whole world if needed.

“Hi,” she murmured as she drew close to me. “How was your morning?”

“Fine. Ready for lunch?” It was an effort not to rub my hands together in pure anticipation. And it definitely wasn’t the food I was looking forward to.

“Mmm.” She stepped out of the room and off to the side a little, making way for others in the hall to pass us by. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe it’s not such a good idea. We don’t have to go to the cafeteria. We could go to the library and hang out instead. Ron’s mom is the librarian. She wouldn’t mind—”

“And miss out on all the fun? No way!” I held out a bent elbow. It took her a few seconds to realize I wanted her to hold my arm.

She slipped a free hand between my elbow and my body, her fingers coming to rest in the bend of my arm as if made to nestle there. I squeezed my arm tight against my body so her hand wouldn’t slip away, and we headed into the packed main hall.

I stumbled to a halt as a flood of strange sensations poured over me. Savannah grabbed my arm with both her hands.

What is it? she thought, her eyes darting side to side as she searched my face. What’s wrong? Talk to me. Is it the bloodlust? We should get out of here.

No, it’s not that, I thought, struggling to breathe as the sensations kept changing, throwing me continually off balance. I tried to find a way to describe what I was feeling. It’s...something else. Like falling into one of those bouncy castles for kids, but this one’s filled with giant cotton balls and knives and fire ants and stuff that’s hitting me from all sides.

Try to breathe through it, she thought, rubbing my upper arm. You’re just picking up their emotions. It’ll take you a little while to learn how to match up their emotions with their thoughts so you can label them and recognize what you’re sensing. If it starts to get too overwhelming, remember the key is to stay calm. The stronger your own emotions, the less you’ll be able to control your abilities. And if all else fails, try to focus on a nearby descendant instead.

A descendant? I couldn’t help but scowl at her for a second. Then I went back to searching the hallway, my instincts screaming at me to stay alert though I didn’t understand why. Why would I want to sense anything from them?

Because it’s like tuning in to a different radio station. It makes the humans go quiet. Clann thoughts might be nastier, but at least they’re quieter since there are fewer descendants than humans.

Huh. Okay, if it shut off the thousand and one voices inside my head...

I nodded and tried to follow her instructions, focusing on the few descendants who passed by till the hall began to clear as the students rushed off to the cafeteria or their next class.

She was right. Listening to the descendants’ thoughts was like tuning in to a much quieter radio station. Too bad it was one playing the “I hate Tristan and Savannah” soundtrack 24/7.

When the hall was half-empty, I found it easier to start moving again.

“We can wait here till they’re all gone,” she murmured, ignoring the curious glances shot our way. “I’m here. Just breathe.”

“I’m okay. It was just...a surprise, is all.” I took a deep breath, squeezed her hand at my elbow and started walking again. I could breathe easier again, too. “So this is what you had to deal with every day?”

She nodded. “I promise it gets easier.”

We headed down the now mostly empty hall toward the main building’s rear exit, her thoughts filling with a glow from the simple pleasure of our getting to walk together like this on campus around others for the first time ever. But it was hard for me to join in with a steady dose of guilt growing inside my chest.

I really owed her an apology.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “You know, for using this ESP thing against you all those times.” It had been bad enough for me to have to deal with hearing and feeling all those thoughts and feelings from everyone else with Savannah there to guide me through it for the first time. I couldn’t even imagine how frightening it must have been for her to go through it alone with no one there to hold her hand, reassure her that she wasn’t going insane, tell her how to turn down the volume on it by listening to the descendants instead.

And I’d made it worse by teasing and tormenting her with my thoughts every chance I’d gotten, in a dumb campaign to make her jealous.

“You’re forgiven.” She said it so simply, as if it were no big deal.

Did she have any idea how much I loved her?

Sometimes I do, she thought, ducking her head to hide a knowing smile.

We walked in silence out of the building, along the cement catwalk with its metal awning roof, then down the cement steps to the sidewalk that wrapped around the cylinder-shaped brick cafeteria. At the doors, she tugged me to a stop.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

I didn’t even have to consider my answer. I nodded. “I want to rub their faces in it so hard they can’t see straight for a week.”

“But why? We don’t have to prove anything to them or anyone else in there.”

“Yes, we do.”

She frowned. “Why? Why does it matter what they think?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why push it? And why do we have to do this today? We could always come back later in the week.”

“I told you, I’ve dreamed about this moment for a really long time. And I’m not going to let them or what they think keep us from finally having this.”

She sighed. “It’s our first day back. It feels like we’re pushing it too hard. Like if we get greedy, something’s going to break. Isn’t it hard enough to be in your classes without facing this many of them all at once?” She hesitated. “And then there’s the small matter of my friends.”

I searched her face. “Worried I won’t pass judgment as your boyfriend?”

“No, of course not! I just don’t feel you should have to try to earn their approval and deal with all those humans and the smells and sounds and the Clann’s attitude on your very first day back.”

I stared at her, everything inside me going still now. “Are you worried I can’t handle it?”

She groaned. “All I’m saying is, why push so hard all at once when you could space out the challenges a little and make it easier on yourself?”

“You’re forgetting I used to play football. I like a good challenge, and the bigger the better.”

She groaned again. “Fine. But the second you look like you’re stressing out, we’re out of here. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Promise me.”

I grinned and held up a pinky. “Pinky swear.”

The flashback to our childhood got a grin out of her. She hooked her pinky with mine. “Deal.”

Finally.

I grabbed the metal handles of both doors, threw them wide-open, and we made our grand entrance into the beehive that was JHS’s cafeteria. Almost every head in the place turned to stare at us. You could practically hear crickets chirp.

SAVANNAH

He was all too happy to lead the way to my friends’ table, which he didn’t even have to search for.

I told you, I’ve spent hours over the years staring at you with your friends and wishing I could be there beside you, he explained silently. I could map out this table’s location in my head at home.

Mmm, stalker much? I teased, trying to ignore the audience all around us.

“Sav!” Michelle squealed as soon as she saw us. All of my friends jumped up from our table.

“Finally!” Anne pushed past Ron so she could be the first to give me a fierce hug. “I knew we should have ignored you and gone over to your house last night anyways.”

As Carrie elbowed her out of the way so she could give me a hug next, I gave Anne a pointed look over Carrie’s shoulder. “You know we had a lot of...unpacking to do.”

Actually, I’d been too nervous about having all three of my human friends at my house with Tristan and my dad. The mere idea had seemed a disaster in the making, so I’d begged my friends to wait for lunchtime today for our group reunion.

Carrie stepped back, and I smiled at Michelle, expecting her to step up for a hug, as well.

But she seemed rooted to the linoleum floor, her already large eyes even bigger as she stared openmouthed at something over my left shoulder.

Oh. Of course, Tristan.

“Hey,” he said by way of a greeting.

Time to ease Tristan into the group. “Everyone, you know Tristan Coleman, right?” Who didn’t at our school? “He’ll, um, be sitting with us from now on.”

“I thought you were going to skip this?” Ron leaned over and muttered.

I shrugged and made a face. “I tried to, but somebody’s a spoiled brat and insisted on it.”

Tristan waited to see which chair I reached for so he could be sure none of us had switched the routine seating arrangement. Then he gently nudged my hands free of the plastic chair so he could pull it out and hold it for me. I rolled my eyes. He was taking this show way too far.

Carrie poked Michelle in the ribs, making her jump then remember to return to her seat on the opposite side of the table.

As everyone sat back down, Tristan took his sweet time helping me hang my Charmers bag’s strap over my chair. Finally he flopped down in the chair beside me, turning sideways away from me to stretch out his long legs. Sighing loudly with satisfaction, he propped his hands behind his head then grinned at my friends.

Gradually the noise level around our table returned to normal as everyone lost interest. But then the hairs along the back of my neck stood up. I snuck a peek over my shoulder. Yep. We still had a small audience over at the Clann table, and they did not look happy. My hands yearned to rub away the mild prickly sensation caused by their staring, but I resisted the urge, knowing the movement would give them a tiny victory they didn’t deserve.

Tristan caught that thought and made a big show of throwing an arm around my shoulders across the back of my chair. In the process, he tossed them a quick grin over his shoulder. I shook my head, glad at least he was able to enjoy this ordeal despite the noise of the cafeteria that had to be giving the inside of his head a beating by now.

Then he settled into his chair and turned to face my friends.

Our table was quiet. Too quiet, like they didn’t know what to say to him. Not the reaction I’d hoped for. I had figured they would jabber on among themselves like they always did, and Tristan could either sit back in silence while getting used to everyone, or he could choose to jump into the group conversation when he was ready. Instead, everyone sat there staring at us with raised eyebrows as if they expected us to do all the talking. But what could we say about our long absence? Anne and Ron were the only ones at our table who even knew about the existence of vampires and magic.

As a Coleman and the former Clann golden boy, Tristan was known by everyone on our campus. But since my friends weren’t descendants, none of them had spent much time hanging out with him. So what could they really talk about with him?

I looked at my friends, quickly considering each one’s history with Tristan. Sitting at my right side, my best friend, Anne, was first on the list. She knew the truth, and she’d even helped out during the battle between the vamp and the Clann in the Circle last November. So she’d been there and actually seen me turn Tristan with her own eyes. She’d also teamed up with Tristan once or twice to secretly help fend off my first gaze-daze victims last year.

Not that we could talk about any of that as a group.

Next up was Ron, who sat at Anne’s other side. As a shapeshifting Keeper and an ally of the Clann, he also knew all about vamps and the Clann and had seen me turn Tristan. He and Tristan had played for the JHS Fighting Indians football team, before Tristan’s Clann abilities forced his parents to pull him from the team last year. Now Tristan’s new vamp abilities would still keep him off the team.

That crossed football off the list of subjects to talk about.

Michelle sat on Ron’s right. But she had a weird hero worship thing going on with Tristan, thanks to his helping her off the track at an eighth-grade track meet when she could hardly walk from shin splints. Even if she could actually find her voice before the end of our lunch break, they didn’t have much in common to talk about. Neither of them had run track since junior high.

That left Carrie. But out of all of my friends, hers would be the toughest approval for Tristan to earn. Like Michelle, she knew only general rumors about the Clann and nothing about their true abilities or that vampires existed. And Tristan had never had an opportunity to help her or work with her on anything. A quick peek into her mind showed all she knew about him was his reputation as our school’s biggest, richest player. She hated players. But worse than that was the money issue. She wanted to become a doctor, but her parents didn’t earn a lot and were struggling to figure out how to finance her college dreams. Even my switch to expensive clothing, at my father’s demand last summer when I’d moved in with him, had temporarily caused some tension between us. And we’d been friends for years.

Could she look past Tristan’s last name and reputation?

Thankfully Michelle found her voice again and broke the silence to launch into her usual nonstop JHS gossip report, which brought the tension level down a few notches.

But while everyone else basically ignored Tristan, Carrie kept throwing quick little glances his way in between taking bites of her salad. I took another quick peek at Carrie’s thoughts. She was trying to figure out what the attraction was between Tristan and me. Or more specifically, why I was attracted to Tristan beyond his good looks. She figured she understood why he was drawn to me...she thought of me as smart, nice, loyal to my friends almost to a fault, though occasionally a little weird and moody. But Tristan seemed the total opposite...a societal apex predator who went after anything in a skirt, cared more about money and image than what might lie underneath, and was about as deep as a dried-up creek.

Her words, not mine.

This wasn’t going well.

Desperate to foster some sort of friendship between them, I reached for the first idea that came to my mind.

“Hey, Tristan, did you know Carrie’s going to be a doctor someday?” I said, making my voice loud enough to carry across the table.

Carrie’s eyebrows shot up then dipped into a frown as she wondered what I was up to.

“Oh, yeah?” Tristan turned to her with real interest. “That’s cool. You know, I just learned some interesting stuff from Mrs. Horne today. She was talking about how there are companies out there now making synthetic blood using a process called blood pharming. Have you heard anything about it?”

Mrs. Horne the biology teacher? I silently asked him. When did you talk to her? We all took biology last year.

I ran into her in the hall on the way to your chem class and we got to talking, Tristan silently answered. Then he looked at Carrie again, waiting for her reply.

Carrie blinked several times in shock as she tried to assimilate her previous ideas of Tristan with this conversation starter.

Oh, of course, she thought. He’s just trying to sound smart to impress me. Well, let’s see how long it takes to reveal his real lack of IQ.

Out loud, she said, “Yes, I’ve read a few articles online about that. They’re mainly creating the synthetic blood for use in the military in war zones.”

Tristan nodded. “Because the regular donor blood doesn’t last long enough on the shelf for use in areas far away from hospitals. By the time it reaches the soldiers, it’s already too old and only lasts about a week. Plus there’s that whole problem of getting enough of the more generally accepted O type blood donated.”

“Too bad the synthetic blood requires the use of umbilical cords to make it.” Carrie grimaced.

“How’s that a problem?” Tristan said. “It’s not like they’re using the cells from the actual babies.”

“Yeah, but it’s an issue ripe for misuse,” Carrie snapped. “Think about it. Who’s got a big supply of umbilical cords they’d be too happy to sell off?”

“Hospitals?” Tristan said.

“And abortion clinics,” Carrie said. “I’m all for a woman’s right to choose, but I don’t think anyone should be making money off of that. Abortion clinics would be only too happy to make some side profits by selling a bunch of umbilical cords to DARPA.”

“DARPA?” Michelle asked, her eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency,” Tristan and Carrie explained at the same time.

Carrie stared at him with round eyes, her shock deepening. “DARPA’s funding the research behind the blood pharming. And they’re the ones who’ll probably end up using taxpayer dollars to buy the big old steaming piles of umbilical cords for all the blood pharming.”

Anne made a choking sound and pushed away her chili cheese fries. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Me neither,” Ron muttered.

Oh, boy. What the heck had I started? “Um, guys, maybe we should talk about something else—”

But it was too late. Carrie and Tristan were deep into the debate now, and there was no stopping them.

“Why shouldn’t we find a use for something that’s going to be thrown away?” Tristan said.

“Because it comes from dead babies, that’s why!” Carrie said, shaking her long blond bangs out of her furious eyes.

“Not only dead babies. And it’s not like blood pharming is the cause of their deaths,” Tristan said. “What about all the umbilical cords from babies delivered alive? Those get thrown out most of the time, too. Why not reduce the biowaste and help save lives at the same time?”

Carrie rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed. “If the cords were only obtained from live births, that would be okay. But who’s going to regulate that, especially if demand for synthetic blood skyrockets? Besides, blood pharming costs too much to be worth it. They can only create twenty units of blood from each cord, and it costs something like five thousand dollars to do it. That’s around two hundred and fifty bucks to make each unit, not including whatever fees they work out to pay for the cord itself. If the masses start thinking they don’t need to donate blood anymore because we can all rely on synthetic blood instead, there goes all the donor blood that’s already in short supply. Then we really do end up having to rely solely or even mostly on expensive synthetic blood. Do you have any idea how much health-care costs would shoot through the roof then? A trauma victim can require up to fifty units of blood. And cancer patients make up twenty percent of all blood transfusions given. Can you imagine what their health-care costs would become?”

Of course you can’t, she finished silently, not realizing Tristan and I could both hear her thoughts. Because you’ve never had to worry about money in your entire life!

Whoa. I sat back in my chair with a thump. I had never heard Carrie talk so much.

“The synthetic blood’s only expensive right now because it’s new and nobody’s making it yet,” Tristan said. “Once more companies learn how to create it and ramp up production to meet the demand, the costs will drop and make it more affordable.”

“Oh, so you’re going to rely on the free market’s supply and demand to set the prices and help reduce health-care costs?” Carrie snorted. Why am I not surprised? Typical rich boy, taking zero account for human greed because he’s full of it himself. “I guess you would be pretty excited, seeing how your family owns a biomedical supply company.”

Tristan frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”

“Because obviously you’re all set up to jump on the synthetic blood wagon and make a few billion more off others’ misery for your family,” Carrie said.

Tristan blinked at her in surprise. “To be honest, I didn’t know my family’s company could even do that sort of thing. I thought we only made sterilized containers for medical supplies.”

One of Carrie’s eyebrows arched as she thought, Ha! I knew he was stupid after all.

Out loud she said, “That’s my point. Your company’s facilities are already set up for creating stuff in sterile environments for the medical industry. I doubt it’d be all that hard to add some lab equipment and a few geneticists to start making synthetic blood for public use. Especially when the setup costs would earn out in no time.”

“You really think so?” Tristan asked, his eyebrows raised.

Unable to read his thoughts, Carrie slowly nodded and watched him with narrowed eyes.

“Huh.” He stared off into space for a minute. “It’s an interesting idea. I wonder if Emily’s heard about synthetic blood.”

“Your sister? Why would she care?” Carrie asked. She’d always thought of Emily as a stereotypical dumb blonde cheerleader.

“Because she’s the one destined to take over the family company as soon as she graduates from college,” Tristan answered automatically. She’s the future brains of the family, not me, he thought to himself, forgetting for a moment that I could hear him. “Em’s always been the brains of my family.”

He sounds sad about that, Carrie thought. Like maybe he wished he was as smart as his sister.

She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her tone was slightly softer. “You know, intelligence isn’t set at birth. It can be improved with a little applied education. For instance, take a look around you at this table. Almost everyone here was practically flunking their science courses till I started tutoring them.” She hesitated. “If you ever need any help in that area, by the way, you can always bring your homework here at lunch.” She finished with an attempted half smile.

Surprised by the offer, Tristan smiled back. “Thanks. I may take you up on that. Emily used to help me with my homework, but now that she’s gone off to college...”

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” I blurted out with a laugh.

Carrie snickered. “Do not get her help with science unless you really do want to flunk. English is Sav’s forte.”

Michelle nodded, making her short honey-blond hair bounce against the tops of her shoulders. “She brought my C average up to a B+ in English, but she doesn’t know jack about chemistry.”

“No, chemistry’s my area,” Ron argued.

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. Just because you understand the elementary table and throwing together a few chemicals doesn’t mean you get science as a whole.”

“Speaking of,” Michelle interrupted Ron’s planned argument. “Did you hear about what happened last week in chem class with Sally Parker and Terrell Stuart? She found out he was cheating with Christie Permetter and threw some chemicals at him during a lab, and...” And with that, Michelle was off and running and nobody could get another word in for at least five minutes while she filled us in on more JHS gossip.

Until Dylan walked in.

“Aw, look, now there’s a matching pair of them,” he sneered as he walked past.

Tristan scowled and clenched his fists. But he didn’t turn to look at Dylan, which made me proud of him. Maybe I was wrong to be so afraid of his losing control.

Michelle muttered, “I cannot believe he and Bethany Brookes are together. What can she possibly see in that jerk?”

“What?” I blurted out, leaning forward in my chair, sure I’d heard her wrong.

“Oh, yeah, for four months now,” Michelle added, her eyes wide. “Talk about the last couple you’d ever think would get together. But she seems to like him for some reason.”

So that was why she didn’t want to welcome me back. She was dating my boyfriend’s former best friend turned archnemesis now and was probably embarrassed about it or something.

But...Bethany Brookes and Dylan Williams? The idea just did not compute. She was so sweet and nice, and he was so...well, not. Was she dating him just to get back at Tristan for leading her on all last summer and this fall?

Tristan twisted in his chair and looked across the cafeteria. Sure enough, Dylan had just dragged a chair over by Bethany, turned it backward with a noisy dragging of metal legs across the linoleum floor, then straddled it. As we watched, he glanced our way, grinned, then leaned over and gave Bethany a kiss on the cheek that made her blush and lean toward him.

A single second of growling was all the warning I got. Next thing I knew, Tristan was gone. He reappeared across the cafeteria, where he held Dylan against the cylinder-shaped room’s curved brown brick wall.

Oh, crap.


CHAPTER 6

I jumped to my feet and tried to remember to move human slow as I wove in between the tables to get to them.

“You son of a—” Tristan began.

Dylan laughed, or tried to. It came out as a wheeze past Tristan’s forearm, which was pressing against Dylan’s throat. “Jealous, Coleman?”

“I’m going to kill you, Williams,” Tristan said, their faces only an inch away from each other. Tristan’s irises had turned silver-white. Oh, so not good.

The thoughts of everyone around us slammed over me like a tidal wave....

Where the heck did he come from?

Whoa, looks like Coleman’s still got the speed even after missing a whole season of practice! I didn’t even see him move across the cafeteria. He’s got to be juicing.

So Tristan isn’t over Bethany after all! I knew he wouldn’t get over the only girl who ever dumped him!

Oh, my God, look at how jealous Coleman is! He ran so fast over here I didn’t even see him coming. He’s going to try to steal Bethany back from Williams. But will she dump Williams for Coleman?

Oooh, look at poor Savannah’s face. How devastating to have to see her boyfriend get so jealous over another girl! Any second now she’s going to start bawling, and...

The descendants were thinking just as loudly. There was no way to shut out the ocean of voices. And way too many humans had noticed how fast Tristan had moved.

I risked closing the distance between us and grabbed Tristan’s shoulder. “Tristan, let him go.”

“He’s—”

“I know. But you’ve got to let him go.” And you’ve got to calm down, I added silently since we were surrounded by both descendants and humans who could easily hear even a whisper in the now dead-quiet cafeteria. Everyone just saw you vamp blur over here. If you bite him, too, the council will have no choice but to go after you. Don’t give the Clann what they want. If you do, Dylan wins.

Tristan growled under his breath. Dylan’s grin wasn’t helping him regain control of his temper. But finally Tristan shoved himself away from Dylan and walked off.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I followed him back across the cafeteria. My legs felt rubbery as I eased down into my chair again. Then I looked up and realized Tristan was still standing by his chair. I gave him a questioning look, then snuck a peek at his thoughts.

He was immersed in the thoughts of everyone around us.

I reached out and tugged at his hand. He blinked a few times, sank down into his chair, then slouched down in the seat with his arms crossed, lost in everyone else’s thoughts.

Silence at our table, even though the noise level in the rest of the cafeteria had risen back to normal.

“I would have punched him in his stupid face,” Anne said, then casually took a long chug of her soda.

“Anne, that wouldn’t have helped the situation,” Carrie said.

“No, he definitely should have hit him,” Michelle said.

Tristan frowned, feeling like the rope in a game of tug-of-war between listening to my friends’ opinions and everyone else’s loud thoughts. He turned to me. Sorry, Sav. I didn’t even decide to go after him. One second I was here and the next...

I sighed, reached over and patted his thigh. It’s okay. I hoped.

But now everyone thinks I’m jealous about Bethany, and I’m not! I just hate that Dylan’s using her to try to piss me off. She’s a sweet girl. She deserves better than that.

This was definitely an awkward conversation to be having with my boyfriend, silently or otherwise. I tried not to squirm in my seat. Let’s just focus on getting through the rest of lunch without vamping out on anyone else, okay?

One corner of his mouth tightened. Go on and say it. You told me so.

I shook my head, pressing my lips together. Nope, not going to say it.

Why not? You totally earned the right to this time. You warned me that coming here was going to push me too hard too soon, and just like you feared, I lost control.

I sighed. Well, it could have been worse. At least you didn’t actually bare your fangs or bite him.

No, but I sure wanted to. His mouth slanted into a wry smile as our eyes met. He took my hand from his thigh and raised it to his lips for a kiss. Have I told you lately how lucky I am to have you?

I smiled. Oh, you’re just saying that to try to cover for the fact that you’re jealous over your ex.

He rolled his eyes at the joke. You know that’s not it.

I nodded.

But did I really know that deep down?

I pushed the question away. Tristan loved me. He was just a good guy who hated to see Dylan hurt anyone, including one of his ex-girlfriends.

TRISTAN

Great. So much for proving I was in control all day long.

We stuck around in the cafeteria till ten minutes before the bell. Then Savannah and I cut out early, planning to grab a few minutes of alone time out on the catwalk.

Except it was already in use by Dylan and Bethany.

The rage rose up like a bonfire inside me, blistering across my skin, all but demanding I go after Dylan.

Then I felt the cool touch of Savannah’s hand on my forearm, reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t kill the punk descendant.

“I’m fine,” I muttered to reassure her as we took the steps up to the ramp that led to the catwalk.

I planned on walking right past the couple without saying a word, just to prove I was in control again.

But then Dylan stopped kissing Bethany. Grinning, he clearly thought, You always did have the best taste in women. Did she taste like honey to you, too?

I stopped, my fists clenching at my sides.

“Dylan, shut up,” Savannah hissed, stepping in front of me.

Dylan laughed. “Why, when it’s so much fun to see him lose it over and over? You really should get a leash for that one. I don’t think he’s going to make it much longer if you don’t.”

Rumbling in my chest made me realize I was growling. I swallowed down the sound. Control. Stay in control, Coleman. Don’t give him what he wants.

“Bethany, you should get out of here,” Savannah muttered, glancing over her shoulder at me. She reached back to grab my forearm again, and this time her grip said she wasn’t letting go for anything.

Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “Why? We were here first.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bethany,” Savannah hissed. “You could get hurt.”

Bethany rolled her eyes. “I’m not some fragile flower, Savannah.” She reached around and slid a hand across Dylan’s chest with a smile. “Besides, Dyl will keep me safe, won’t you?”

“You know it,” Dylan murmured, turning his head to kiss her again.

“Bethany, can’t you see he’s just using you to tick me off?” I said.

They stopped kissing and Bethany smiled. “I don’t think so. We started dating while you were gone, and we’ve been dating for months without you here to see it. If all he wanted was to make you jealous, why wouldn’t he wait till you came back before asking me out?” Still smiling, she cupped Dylan’s cheek. “I know my baby loves me. And for the record, if you’re so worried about someone hurting me, maybe you should look in the mirror. Because Dylan has done nothing but treat me like a queen, which is more than I can say about you.”

Dylan slid a hand around her waist and pulled her hard against him for another kiss. “That’s right, baby. But don’t be late for class because of me. See you after Charmers practice?”

Bethany nodded, threw me one last smirk, then walked down the catwalk with an extra swing in her blond ponytail, her thoughts full of confidence now that she believed she had two guys fighting over her.

Savannah glared at her fellow Charmer’s back with one thought. Ugh.

Bethany stepped off the catwalk and headed down the sloping grounds’ cement steps. The second she disappeared into the math hall on the sports and arts building’s ground floor, I got in Dylan’s face. “If you’re leading her on, all the Clann abilities in the world aren’t going to be enough to save you.”

“Oh, yeah? And if I was, what are you going to do about it?”

My hands ached to grab handfuls of his shirt. Instead I clenched them down at my sides. “You really don’t want to find out.”

“Maybe I do,” Dylan murmured. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, to see what the big bad Tristan can do now that he’s turned. Why don’t you prove how badass you are now, Coleman?”

“There’s no audience around to save you now,” I reminded him. Why was he pushing me so hard?

Savannah was right. Something was off. Dylan was obviously trying to push every button I had.

It smelled like a trap.

I took a step back, and his eyes flared then narrowed. Something bitter, like lemons, waved off him like a cloud. I checked his thoughts.

He was...afraid?

Told you, Savannah thought. His dad’s probably demanding he push us over the edge at school where everyone will see us lose control so either the council or the Clann will come after us. It’s what he tried to do to me earlier this year.

Yeah, but why? The Clann already kicked me out. What’s the point of getting rid of me now? I’m not in his dad’s way anymore.

“What’s the matter?” Dylan said through gritted teeth. “Afraid to take me on now? I never knew you were a coward, Coleman. Did your daddy’s death destroy you?”

Son of a... I breathed slowly, pushing the anger down again. “Shut up, Williams. You’re not getting what you want here. I’m not going to give your dad the ammunition he needs to force the Clann to take us out.”

Dylan’s breathing sped up. He closed the distance between us, and this time it was his turn to grab my shirt and get in my face. “My father has nothing to do with this. This is all about you two freaks being where you don’t belong....” He went on, spit flying in my face. But I didn’t even hear him speaking anymore. It was all cover noise. The real truth was in his thoughts, in the memories of Mr. Williams’s hand raised palm-out in the air, in the sounds of sizzling as spell after spell slammed into Dylan.

“Do it!” Dylan screamed in my face. “You freaking bloodsucker, you know you want to kill me. Just do it already!”

I grabbed his forearms, their bulging veins taunting me, calling to me. I pushed him away from me an inch at a time, watching as Dylan’s eyes rounded and the muscles in his neck corded with the effort to fight me. But the physical difference between us was too much for Dylan to even have a prayer.

“What does he want, Dylan?” I asked. “He told you to tick us off, to push me over the edge. Why? I’m cast out. I can’t be the leader anymore. So what does he want this time? What’s the point of trying to get rid of me? Nothing I do will make my mother look bad now. She’s washed her hands of me.”

He’ll kill me. The thought echoed over and over inside Dylan’s thoughts as his chest heaved. He tucked his chin down, and I recognized that look.

As he ran at me, I whirled to the side and avoided the tackle. Dylan had always sucked at tackling. It was why he’d been so much better in the quarterback position.

Snarling, he turned around and came after me again. This time I grabbed the back of his neck as he missed me again. I pushed him against the metal railing, a bong vibrating down the entire length of the catwalk.

“Tristan,” Savannah said.

I shook my head at her. Still in control.

Out loud I said to Dylan, “You know I can hear every thought inside that peanut-sized brain of yours. Why don’t you just save us both time and tell me the truth?”

“Or what? You’ll torture it out of me? Go on and try!” He whirled around, his fists flying through the air toward my face. I leaned to the left, then the right, neatly avoiding each blow.

“Tristan, the bell’s about to ring,” Savannah muttered.

Time was up. I grabbed him where his left shoulder met his neck, driving him back into the nearest pole. “Don’t make me lose my patience.”

Dylan closed his eyes. “Just do it already.” If you don’t kill me, he will.

“Why would he kill his own son, Dylan?” Savannah asked.

“Get out of my head, you b—” Dylan tried to scream.

Shaking my head, I tapped his left cheek with my open palm. I’d meant to barely slap him, but his pupils dilated and he started to slump. Cursing, I held him upright.

Turn me, Dylan thought as he fought to hold on to consciousness. Just turn me or kill me.

Whoa. Surprise almost made me let go of him. I regained my grip on his shoulder before he fell all the way to the cement. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes rolled as he blinked slowly. “I know she can do it. She pulled it off with you.”

“You don’t mean it,” Savannah muttered. “You can’t really want this.”

But he did. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision enough to stare at her. “You don’t know him. I’m dead either way. At least if I were like you...”

Heat built in my chest, but this time the anger had a whole new target. Mr. Williams. “If your dad’s using magic on you, tell the Clann. They’ll put a stop to it—”

Dylan let his head drop back against the pole. “You don’t get it. They don’t care. Besides, it’d be my word against his. He’s got too many friends on his side. The Clann will never stand against him.”

“My mother would.” The words slipped out of me as quickly as I thought them. Then I realized it was true. For all her faults and fears against vamps, she would never knowingly allow any Clann kid to be abused.

“She’s not as powerful as she thinks,” Dylan whispered. His pupils slowly contracted to their previous size.

What did he mean by that?

At first, I thought he was still trying to tick me off. But his tone was wrong, flat and unemotional now. Like he was just stating a fact.

“She’s the Clann leader,” I said. “Not even your dad would be stupid enough to mess with her.”

He looked me in the eye, uncaring whether he got gaze dazed in the process. “Want to bet?” Before I could react, he looked away again. “Now either kill me or let me go, man.”

Noise as other students drifted out of the cafeteria and headed in our direction.

“Tristan,” Savannah murmured, her tone a warning.

I released Dylan and stepped back, lost in thought. He hesitated for a second then slunk off, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in his front pockets, his head hanging. He looked like a freshly beaten dog.

“Do you think he meant it?” Savannah asked just before the bell pealed, signaling the end of lunch. “About his dad threatening to kill him, I mean?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Can’t we do something to help him?”

I glanced at her in surprise. “Help the guy who’s been bullying you for years? Are you serious?”

Her nose scrunched. “Yeah, I know. He’s the world’s biggest jerk. But that doesn’t mean he deserves to have the crap magically kicked out of him all the time by his dad.”

We slowly walked side by side toward the main building.

I scowled at nothing, walking by sheer instinct, too lost in thought to notice the growing traffic around us as we neared the metal doors of the main building’s back entrance.

Being furious at Dylan was a lot less complicated than whatever this new feeling was that was pushing around at my insides. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it...pity.

Nah. Couldn’t be.

“Maybe I’ll shoot Em a text and see what she thinks.” Dylan was never going to become a vamp, not if I had any say in it. But something about the whole situation didn’t feel right.

What had Dylan meant about our mother not having as much power as she believed?

Yeah, I’d definitely have to talk to Emily about this. I doubted the Williamses had as much pull within the Clann as Dylan seemed to think. But it was better to give Emily a heads-up just in case something was going on within the ranks that she didn’t know about. And while she was sniffing around, she could also tell our mother about Mr. Williams’s abuse of his son.


CHAPTER 7

SAVANNAH

By the time Charmers practice wrapped up late that evening and Tristan and I drove home, I was exhausted.

“Want some help with your homework?” Tristan called out from his bedroom as I headed upstairs.

I hesitated. Since getting his memory back, Tristan’s mind worked lightning-fast. He’d used the four-and-a-half-hour trip home from Arkansas yesterday to read all of our textbooks so he could get caught up on the five months’ worth of homework I’d done for both of us during our absence. And not only did he read fast, but he also seemed to photographically memorize everything he read, as well. Getting good grades definitely wasn’t going to be a problem for him from now on. Boredom while at school, on the other hand, was a real danger where he was concerned.

But it wasn’t the smarter version of Tristan that made me hesitate. It was the idea of being in a room alone with him. Every day since turning him last fall, we’d always had someone else around.

I was being ridiculous. I could handle the temptation. Besides, Dad would be right downstairs, listening to every sound we made.

“Sure,” I answered him. “Let me change and I’ll be right over.”

In my bedroom, I exchanged my school clothes for comfier pajama pants, thick wool socks and a hoodie. With no humans around, I could finally put on some extra layers to ward off the ever-present chill I felt in spite of the warm East Texas weather. The bank signs all said it was 78°F today, but to my frozen fingers and toes, it felt more like 28°F.

I padded over to Tristan’s bedroom, next door to mine, and knocked on the door.

“Come on in,” he said, setting aside a textbook he had been reading.

“Leave the door open, please,” Dad called out from the living room, making me roll my eyes.

We still weren’t sure I could even have children if I wanted to someday, since no female vampire ever had before. Their bodies saw baby embryos as foreign infections that had to be eradicated immediately. Then again, I wasn’t exactly your average female vamp, so...

Still, I left the door open to make Dad feel better, then slowly walked around Tristan’s bedroom.

Since returning to Jacksonville, we hadn’t had time for him to do much to his new room. So it was still mostly bare, no pictures or posters on the dark green walls Dad had painted, the old-fashioned rolltop desk’s surface clean except for Tristan’s laptop, the bedside table beside him holding only a brass lamp and his MP3 player, now plugged into the wall nearby and recharging. Then I spotted the photo of me taped to the wall above his carved oak headboard.

“Where’d you get that?” It looked like my school photo from last year, but I’d never given him one, at least not that I remembered. A closer look showed that it had been printed on thinner paper than photo stock.

Tristan continued to stare at me, watching me, his hands tucked behind his head. “There weren’t many messages to run from the office during first period, and I got bored. I realized I didn’t have any pictures of you. So I copied one from our yearbook. Too stalkerish?”

I smiled. “No. It’s sweet. You know, you could even stick it in a frame if you want. Dad’s okay with you decorating however you want in here. We both want you to feel at home.”

When I glanced at him again, he caught and held my gaze. “Anywhere you are is my home, Savannah.” He dropped his hand to the mattress beside him palm-up in invitation.

I slowly crossed the room to him and sat on the edge of the bed at his hip. His arm rose to make room for me then rested across my thighs, his hand curving around my hip.

Because my nerve endings screamed for me to get closer to him, I forced my mind to focus on other things. “Maybe you should call your mom tonight. You know, to let her know how your first day back at school went?”

I’d already texted my mother on the way home from school while Tristan had fun driving us in my car.

His mouth tightened. His eyelids dropped halfway, concealing his eyes from me. The memory of his mother casting him out of the Clann and her life right after I turned him flashed through his mind before he pushed it away. “Not a good idea.”

“I know she screwed up that night. But she’s still your mom, Tristan. And I know she’s worried about you. Any mother would be.”

“She’s not worried about me. I’m dead to her now.” His voice hitched on the word dead. He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silence of the room.

“She can’t really feel that way. She was just freaked out. She’d just lost her husband—”

“What about me? I lost my dad. Now it’s like I’ve lost my mom, too. I feel like an orphan here, Savannah!”

I stared at him, shocked by the pain he was finally allowing himself to feel. I listened to his racing heart, waiting until it calmed down again. “Talk to her. Give her another chance. She just needed time to get used to all the changes.”

“Whatever.”

I blew out a long, slow breath through my lips. “Maybe the problem is you two are both being hardheaded. She made a mistake and said some things she shouldn’t have. But she’s your mother. You have to forgive her.”

“Her first.”

“What?

“Tell her to forgive me for becoming her worst nightmare. Then we can try to talk it out.”

I sighed. There was no point in pushing Tristan about this any further tonight. It had been a tough day for both of us. We had plenty of time to talk about this later. “I should go, let you get to your homework or whatever. I don’t really need help with mine.”

“No, don’t go yet. I already did my homework while you were at Charmers practice. Which I notice you were awfully careful not to tell me about. Was Mrs. Daniels and everybody else happy to have you back?”

His anger and hurt and resentment, directed solely at his mother, was immediately packed away somewhere deep inside him. Now all I saw and sensed from him was love and loneliness.

It couldn’t hurt to stay a little longer. “Yeah. Well, mostly.” I let him see my memory of overhearing their thoughts and the rumors currently swirling around us.

He cringed. “We should come up with a story. One that doesn’t involve eloping to Las Vegas or you getting knocked up.”

“Why bother telling them a lie? They won’t believe it anyway. You know how they are. They’ll believe whatever story they choose.”

I glanced at him, noticing the thick textbook at his other hip, still open and lying facedown. It must have been some pretty interesting reading. Even with his new speed-reading ability, he still wasn’t much of a reader by choice.

I reached for the book. He shocked me by quickly laying his free hand over the cover.

“Oh, now I really need to know what you’re reading.” I tried reaching over him for the book again, losing my balance and falling across him. He just as quickly grabbed the book and used the advantage of his long arm to hold it beyond my reach.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/melissa-darnell/consume/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.